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Gbituary, 


MEMORIAL SERMON, 


Poiuies Or heqard. 


ON THE OCCASION OF THE DEATH OF 


Mrs. HULDANA SQUIER HENRY, 


BORN AT 
NEW HAVEN, VT, JULY 22, 1811, 


AND 


DIED AT DETROIT, MICH, MAY 38, 1880, 


HARTFORD, CONN.: 
Press or THE Casg, Lockwoop & BRAINARD COMPANY. 
1880. 


DEDICATION. 





It has -become my part, who knew Mrs. Henry well, to gather a 
few notices and tributes from the mass placed in my hands, and 
arrange them for readier and more permanent use among her 
relatives and dear friends. There is nothing expressed in these 
pages that exceeds my own appreciation of her noble life and char- 
acter. My acquaintance with her has been an arm of strength 
because of her wise counsels; a help to spiritual life because of her 
continuous walk with God ; and an abiding inspiration toward bet- 
_ ter efforts, because of the clear shining of her exemplary virtues. 
Having many times before her illness said to those dearest to me 
that I never knew a grander character than Mrs. Henry, I may 
now be permitted to reiterate the same expression. The memory 
of such a life is a great legacy, more precious than gold, and the 
meditations upon it represented by the tributes of these pages is an 
interest in which I am thankful to bear a humble part. 

Hearts are sore now, lives are subdued, but hearts and lives are 
enriched by the light reflected from the increasing radiance which 
glows from such a death as only can follow such a life. 

We cannot think of her as dead, but only as passed on before us 
to the sphere of glory, with her Master preparing a place for us, 
and sharing yet an intense interest in her loved ones who linger 
awhile on earth. : 

To the comfort of him whese singularly-faithful companion, and 
wise counsellor for nearly half a century, has been taken to glory, 
while the pxans of his own victory may almost be heard, and to the 
comfort also of his children, and his children’s children, who live 
in his heart lovingly and inseparably, as they lived, and still con- 
tinue to live in hers, the sacred labor of the following pages is 
humbly dedicated. aR: 





me ie WAT Y 





The funeral of Mrs. Huldana Squier Henry took place May 5, 
1880, from her late residence, 125 Lafayette Ave., Detroit, Mich. 

She was the daughter of Hon. Wait Squier, of New Haven, 
Vermont, born July 22, 1811. She was born also into the deeply- 
religious life which pervaded the home of her parents. And, when 
twelve years old, her mother was taken from the earth, Huldana 
was not in danger of losing her Christian type of character. The 
mother’s life had already imbued her own, and the treasured im- 
pressions of her death wrought a great influence for good upon the 
child. Atthe age of fifteen she wrote a memorable letter to an 
elder sister, who was absent at school, stating her deliberate deter- 
mination to unite with the Church, and to lead a life of Christian 
usefulness, and exhorting her sister to a similar determination. <A 
letter strikingly like this one was written to the deceased at the 
same time and by the same sister. The letters passing each other 
midway, were received almost simultaneously, and have been treas- 
ured as more than a coincidence. ‘The mutual resolution was car- 
ried out by each, and the surviving sister, now residing at Geneva, 
N. Y., was present at the funeral. 

January 9, 1833, at the age of 22, she was married to Mr. W. 
G. Henry of Bennington, Vermont, where the home was fixed, and 
their two first children born, and where she united by letter with 
the Congregational Church. 

In September, 1836, the young household removed to what was 
then the far West, a journey of twenty days, to a settlement just 
commenced in Michigan, which is now the city of Grand Rapids. 
They arrived on Saturday, and the next day united with a little 
company in the organization of the First Congregational Church 
of that vicinity. 

In the winter of 1839 and 1840, amid the excitement of the 
Patriot Rebellion in Canada, Mr. and Mrs. Henry visited their 


6 


friends in Vermont, going the whole distance in a sleigh with two 
small children, passing through Canada, sending their team for 
crossing sixteen miles down the river from Detroit, while they 
crossed at the city, partly by small boat, and partly on cakes of 
ice. 

In 1867 they removed from Grand Rapids to Detroit, where 
they have since lived members of the First Congregational Church, 
and well known in all the activities of the same Mrs. Henry was 
a woman of extraordinary health. During her married life of 
nearly forty-eight years, and the mother of eight children, she has 
never had but one illness (and that a short one), preceding her 
last.. Her Christian life from her childhood has known no lapse, 
but rather in the stream of years has gathered depth and power in 
all its way. Of well-developed frame, a cultured mind, never, 
scarcely under any circumstances, losing her calm and dignified man- 
ner, her graceful bearing added a charm and a power to her uniform 
kindness, and her sympathetic charity toward all, of every grade, 
who knew her. Her usefulness was felt in all social movements, 
being beloved both in society and in the church. But it was in 
her home that the superiority of her character will be most re- 
membered. The deep piety, the embodiment of truth, the careful 
culture of her children, and her unselfish devotion to them, these 
will be treasured as most precious by all who knew her. 

Not only was Mrs. Henry forever busy with details of benefi- 
cent and Christian work, but few were more enthusiastic in the 
great affairs of the churches. In the last autumn of her life, she 
writes from Geneva, N. Y., to Rev. Frank Russell, her son-in-law, 

“Last week we went to Syracuse to attend the Seventieth 

‘Annual Meeting of the American Board of Commissioners for 
Foreign Missions. It was a grand meeting, a real feast of fat 
things, to listen to such men as Storrs, Dodge, and Taylor, all 
familiar to you. I many times wished you were there with that 
noble, heavenly-minded company of workers. I do think you 
should avail yourself of the yearly privilege of this meeting. It 
surely gives renewed inspiration for the work of the gospel.” 

To her granddaughter, only a few months before her death, she 
writes the following: 

My Drar Narna: | , 

Your letter, which was received some days since, was so full of 

interest to me that I was determined not to answer it until I had 


T 

time to say all I wanted to. My dear child, there is nothing that 
gives me more pleasure than to think you are useful in the church 
of Christ. My work is mostly done in that regard, and to feel that 
my daughters are making my place good, yea more, vastly more, fills 
me with joy. For more than thirty years, in Grand Rapids, I was 
actively identified in all the benevolent enterprises of our church. 
And now to know that you are interested in the great work of do- 
ing good almost makes me content to be laid aside. 

You would enjoy Dr. Pentecost’s meetings, Oh, so much. Last 
night Hay and I went one hour before church time, and then could 
only get seats near the platform. Oh! what a sermon! It was 
about two hours long. I send it to you, and want you to read it. 
It is true, every word of it, and will do a great amount of good.” 

The following is her resignation from a work to which she was 
for a long time greatly devoted. 

Monpay, December 4, 1876. 
To the Ladies of the Board: 

Please accept my resignation as your President. ‘Three years as 
your presiding officer has made the society more and more dear to 
me in all its work and workers. It has been, and will still be, my 
earnest effort to promote our noble charity. With the best wishes 
for the prosperity and usefulness of the society, I remain, 

With highest regard, most obediently yours, 
Mrs. W. G. Henry. 


From the last letter Mrs. Henry ever wrote (written to her 
daughter, Mrs. Russell,) we quote : 

“Tf you knew how much pleasure it gives me to do anything 
"for you and yours, you would not think of your request being ‘too 
much to ask ;’ and when you say, ‘if you think it best for me,’ it 
makes me twenty years younger.. I have been poorly for nearly 
two weeks, and have taken medicine which makes me as sick as [| 
have been for many years.” 

Her last illness extended over five or six weeks of the most 
tender and affectionate nursing by her daughters who were all 
with her. She was ever patient to the last, fillmg every wakeful 
hour with touching testimonies of her bright faith, humble recog- 
nition of all the blessings of a long life, and a quick gratitude for 
every kindness bestowed upon her. Resting in God’s Word, she 
was ready to live, but equally ready to die. 

On Monday, May 3d, she seemed no worse than for a week pre- 


8 


ceding, until with no particular pain, but with only a strange sense 
of discomfort, she observed a shortness and a difficulty of breath- 
ing, and asked those at her bedside, Can this be dying?” The 
children gathered quickly, most affectionately she bade each one 
farewell, sent loving messages to absent friends, joined heartily in 
prayer with Rev. Dr. Pierson, repeated a portion of the 23d Psalm 
in a calm, clear voice, and then said, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my 
spirit,” and sank without any struggle or tremor or pain, into 
the sleep of her body, a fitting death for such a well-rounded 
character, and such a well-spent life. 

In the funeral services of the Wednesday following, ‘Dr. Zi 
Eddy, her pastor, was assisted by Dr. Pierson, of the Fort street 
Presbyterian Church ; a great concourse of friends attended the 
afflicted families to Elmwood where, as the sun was setting, her 
earthly part was left in its last resting-place. 

Those of her immediate family who survive her, are her husband, 
Mr. W. G. Henry of Detroit, and her children, Mr. Wm. W. 
Henry of Big Rapids, Mich., Mrs. Gen. R. A. Alger of Detroit, 
Mrs. Rev. Frank Russell of Mansfield, Ohio, Miss Fay Henry, and 
Mr. Albert M. Henry of Detroit, besides Miss Naina Henry, a 
granddaughter, who is more a daughter, having lived as one from 
three years of age, and scarce knowing any other mother, and 
other grandchildren. 


In Memoriam. 





Mrs. HULDANA SQUIER HENRY. 





THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE DEAD WHO DIE IN THE LORD. 


A MEMORIAL SERMON 
FIRS? CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH OF DETROIT, 
MAY 16, 1880, | 


lew ZACHARY EDDY, D.D. 


bo 








peel VE ON’. 





Revelation 14:13. And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, 
Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth : 
Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors, and their works 
do follow them. 


The last clause of this text—‘“ Their works do follow them,” is 
not quite clear. A newer translation renders it with grammatical 
accuracy, ‘“ Their works follow with them.” I cannot think that 
by these works we are to understand merely the remembrance of 
good works done on earth ; or even the reward of those works in 
heaven. But I think the intimation is plain that spiritual activi-: 
ties accompany them, characterize them, and constitute their bles- 
sedness in Paradise. They rest from their labors, services rendered 
with fatigue and pain, but their works, services to be rendered 
without fatigue and pain, continue. They are ever more to be 
active, but they shall never more find their activity laborious; that 
is to say, exhausting and wearisome. Whether this is the meaning 
of the phrase or not, the best commentators are far from agreeing. 
The truth which I find in the text is plainly declared in other pas- 
sages; as for example in Chapter 7: 15, of this very book, “ There- 
fore are they before the throne of God, and serve Him day and 
night in His tempie.” 

All this prepares the way for the theme of the hour: THE 
HAPPINESS OF BLESSED SPIRITS IN HEAVEN SPRINGS FROM PERPETUAL 
SERVICE, 

Our notion of happiness is derived from experience. We can 
only conceive of the happiness of heaven as analogous to the 
highest and purest pleasure which we are conscious of in the 
present life. There may be, doubtless there will be, new sources 
of enjoyment opened up to us in the hereafter, but they must 
correspond to our essential humanity; they must fall under the 
laws which determine our susceptibilities to pleasure; for the 
future life will be a real human life, the persistency and develop- 
ment of life in the body. That is indeed involved in personal im- 
mortality. We shall carry with us into the spiritual world mem- 
ory, reason, social affections, will; for without these we should 
not be conscious of personal identity. We may therefore reason 
with confidence from our present experience of pleasure and pain 
to the nature of that happiness which we hope for in the world to 


12 


come. What then is happiness, according to our present ex- 
perience ? Whence comes it ? . 

It is but a truism to say that man is only happy as he is con- 
scious of happiness. Pleasure, which I use in its highest meaning 
as including all kinds and degrees of enjoyment, is a matter of feel- 
ing, and there is no feeling except in consciousness. Now we are 
only conscious of pleasure by the exertion of those powers or ener- 
gies which together constitute life. ‘To live,” says a Philosopher, 
‘cis to energize ;” life is the sum of our activities, and as conscious- 
ness is inseparable from activity and cannot go beyond it, pleas- 
ure can only be felt in some kind of activity. Perfect inaction is 
neither pleasure nor pain, but zero. It is another name for un- 
consciousness. Again, human energy is limited to certain modes 
in which alone it can be exerted. We are endowed with special 
powers, faculties, capacities; power of thought, volition, affection. 
Now a man can only exert the energy which makes up his life 
through these special powers, and a capacity for pleasure and pain 
is the inseparable comcomitant of every power. To illustrate, 
take as an example the power of vision. I look on a tree, a grand, 
old elm suppose: I survey the whole wonderful structure, the 
convoluted roots, the stately trunk, the mighty boughs and far- 
reaching branches, multiplying into an infinitude of ever-lessening 
twigs, each floating on its leafy wings in the summer air. I stand 
entranced. When I reflect on the pleasure I feel, I find it insep- 
arable from the exercise of a special power, the sense of sight. 
And my pleasure is in exact proportion to the energy exerted, not 
only by the act of seeing, but by imagination, taste, memory, 
judgment, perhaps also by social sympathy and by religious 
reverence. Though the same tree might paint itself on the retina 
of a brute, an idiot, or an atheist, it would only yield a dim and 
vague pleasure not far removed from indifference. 

It is said that the most celebrated of ancient mathematicians 
made an important discovery touching the specific gravity of 
bodies, while he was in the bath. In the joy of the moment he 
rushed into the streets, naked as he was, and ran home shouting 
Kureka ! Hureka! I have found it! I have found it! We all feel 
that it was a noble rapture, a rapture resulting from the consum- 
mate energy of a mighty intellect. The scientific truth which he 
discovered, though important, gives no such pleasure to common 
minds. Intellectual enjoyment is always in proportion to the free, 
spontaneous energy exerted in the pursuit and contemplation of 
truth. 

Now there is a higher joy than that which attends the exer- 
cise of the highest intellectual power; I mean the joy which 
springs from the activity of the spiritual faculties. We are capa- 
ble of knowing, of loving, of enjoying God. We are capable of 
perceiving by spiritual intuition the divine glory and beauty. The 
meek majesty, the awful gentleness, the paternal kindness, in a 
word, the ineffable love of the infinite and eternal One before 


13 


whom seraphim and cherubim veil their faces. What is more, 
we are capable of entering by the energy of love into conscious 
union and fellowship with the all-lovely Father of lights. This 
is at once the highest flight and the supreme blessedness of a finite 
intelligence. Thus it passes out of itself into God. Thus the 
creature will becomes one with the will of the Creator. From 
that union issues a life of free, holy activity ; a life of spontaneous 
obedience to the Divine law, felt not as an external force pressing 
on the will, but as a self-moving force in the will itself ; felt not 
as a taskmaster saying, ‘‘ Thou shalt,” but as a filial alacrity which 
anticipates the command, saying, “I will.” Thus law itself be- 
comes the highest freedom. Duty loses her stern and threatening 
aspect. : 
Stern Lawgiver ! yet thou dost wear 
The Godhead’s most benignant grace * 
Nor know we anything so fair 
As is the smile upon thy face; 
Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, 
And fragrance in thy footsteps treads. 

Again, man has social affections, originally disinterested, the 
exercise of which is a source of pure, refined satisfaction. These 
affections breed generous desires for the happiness of those we 
love, and prompt to self-sacrificing efforts to do them good. Hence 
it comes about that the mutually-reflected charities of the family, 
the intimate communion of kindred spirits in the unselfish inter- 
course of friendship, the self-denying labors of patriotism, philan- 
thropy, and evangelism, afford an exalted and exquisite enjoyment, 
the best earthly type of the blessedness of heaven. 

Such then are the elements of true happiness as we find them in 
our human experience on earth. Picture to yourselves a man with 
a full, harmonious development of his whole nature, the sensuous, 
the intellectual, the moral, the religious, the social, and imagine 
him so disposed and circumstanced that all his powers are excited 
to the highest degree of healthy activity; picture such a man, and 
you will have formed a true conception of happiness. 

“Do you then intend to assert that al! action is pleasurable ?” 
Certainly not. The most of men shrink from labor and are fond 
of ease. An aversion to labor, however, does not prove that men 
regard inaction as a condition of pleasure, for the idle are often 
more active in mind and body than the industrious; but what 
they shrink from is the fatigue produced by strenuous toil in a 
monotonous occupation. Activity, as we have seen, to be in the 
highest degree pleasurable must be free and consequently varied; a 
kind of action seldom possible after childhood. Labor, not play, is 
our lot on earth. Yet even the most dull and dusty toil is better 
than idleness. The day-drudge is less miserable than the spoilt 
nurseling of fortune, who, finding nothing on which to exert his 
powers, complains that life is stale, flat, and unprofitable. I am 
somewhat amused, but more instructed, by a passage in the life of 
that most charming of humorists, Charles Lamb. After thirty- 


14 


three years of drudgery as a clerk at the Hast India House, he was 
retired on a pension of $2,500 per annum. At the age of fifty he 
found himself with an ample provision for his life, free from all care 
and all necessity of labor. During the first few weeks after his 
emancipation he was exultant, almost delirious with joy. ‘For 
some days,” he writes, ‘I was staggered, could not comprehend 
the magnitude of my deliverance, was confused, giddy, knew not 
whether I was on my head or my heel, as they say. But these 
giddy feelings have gone away, and my weather-glass now stands ~ 
a degree or two above content; I go about quiet, and have none of 
that restless hunting after recreation which formerly made holi- 
days uneasy joys. All being holidays, I feel as if I had none, as 
they do in heaven, where it is all red-letter days.” A few months 
later, notwithstanding the rich resources of his mind and of society, 
his time began to hang heavy on his hands, and he wrote to one of 
his literary friends—“ Would I could sell or give you some of my 
leisure.” After bearing for a little while this burden of too 
much leisure he engaged in regular literary work, the same number 
of hours each day which he had formerly spent at his desk in the 
India House. The moral is that there is no happiness in this 
world without activity of mind and heart, of soul and body. 

But there are several conditions of pleasurable activity which must 
be pointed out before we can apply these principles to the happi- 
ness of heaven. In the first place, the activity must be not reluct- 
ant and constrained, but spontaneous and full. It must be the 
natural outflowing of vital energy. It is only on rare occasions, 
but memorable enough to suggest an idea of what life in heaven 
is, that we experience this spontaneity of bodily, intellectual, and 
spiritual energy. In youth the body seems etherealized, almost 
glorified. The boy seems to walk on air. He knows not that he 
has limbs; his motions are light and free as those of a bird. His 
senses are keen and perfect. He is an embodied soul, and his 
soul is not overweighted with the body. So too, the most of us, 
especially those who are engaged in intellectual pursuits, have a 
vivid remembrance of certain rare seasons when thought was clear 
and swift as light, when memory yielded up her treasures without 
solicitation, when judgment was prompt, decisive, and well ‘bal- 
anced, when imagination was an intense, many-colored light, 
illuminating and beautifying all mysteries and all knowledge ; 
when grand and glorious truths half veiled and half revealed lay 
like cloud-capt mountains on the horizon of thought; when the 
aptest words and the most illustrative imagery came and offered 
themselves for selection, when in a word the mind seemed lifted 
above the body and above itself, and to float without effort in a 
sort of divine ether. far away from the smoke and stir of this dim 
spot which men call earth. Such experiences we have had, so few, 
however, and so far between, that we account them as angel visits, 
and look forward with heart-sick longing to that life whose mighty 
forces shall play through the whole cycle of thought. 


15 


There is also a spontaneous activity of the religious powers of the 
spiritual nature of which holy men have had a real though rare 
experience in the present world. Jonathan Edwards had it ‘when 
an inward, sweet sense of divine things came into his heart, and 
his soul was led away in pleasant views, and contemplation of them ; 
when he seemed to himself to enjoy a calm, sweet abstraction of 
soul from all the concerns of this world, as if he was alone in the 
mountains, or in some solitary wilderness, far from all mankind 
sweetly conversing with Christ, and rapt and swallowed up in 
God: when his soul was like a little white flower, such as we see 
in the spring of the year, low and humble on the ground, opening 
its bosom to receive the pleasant beams of the sun’s glory, rejoicing, 
as it were, in a calm rapture, diffusing around a sweet fragrance, 
‘standing peacefully and lovingly in the midst of other flowers 
round about, all in like manner opening their bosoms to drink in 
the light of the sun.” Mrs. Edwards experienced a similar exalta- 
tion when she ‘tasted the clusters of the heavenly Canaan, her soul 
being filled and overwhelmed with light, and love, and joy in the 
Holy Ghost.” Payson felt this supreme energy and blessedness of 
the spiritual life when, just before his translation, he exclaimed, 
“God isin this room: I see Him, and oh! how inexpressibly lovely 
does He appear!” Many saints in every age have known the joy 
that springs from faith and love and holy contemplation, in those 
seasons when the soul stands transfigured with a dreadless awe, on 
the mount close by the transfigured Lord. But such seasons are 
rare, for the life of the spirit is here too often cramped with fleshly 
bonds, and smothered with dreams of worldliness and sin. Could 
the joy, the rapture, the peace supreme but last, that would be 
heaven on earth. 

Another condition of pleasurable activity is the harmonious and 
balanced energy of all the powers. The pleasure arising from the 
induigence of the lower appetites and passions turns to gall and 
wormwood when not checked and regulated by reason, conscience 
and religion. Intellectual pleasures, whether of science, art, or 
literature, become like the glitter of moonbeams on. ice when 
divorced from the heart. The intense, long-continued activity of 
the religious powers when the intellect is torpid is apt to run into 
morbid enthusiasm, and insanity. In the present world our ener- 
gies often lose the balance. We cultivate our favorite faculties, 
and suffer others to lie fallow. And hence so many distorted, 
feeble, unhappy souls with rudimentary faculties on one side, and 
monstrous growths on the other. How can the activity of such a 
soul be otherwise than painful! Itis not often that we see a 
complete, symmetrical man exerting in balanced proportion all his 
powers, from the lowest to the highest. Perhaps such a character 
is impossible in the present world. 

Another condition of the pleasurable exercise of our powers, is 
that the object to which they correspond should be in such corre- 


16 


lation with them as to solicit and reward their exertion. To illus. 
trate, the final end of our reasoning faculties is the knowledge of 
truth, but, if truth were beyond the reach of the understanding, 
reasoning could only result in disappointment and sorrow. Our 
social affections would be the source of keenest anguish if we had — 
no friends. Shut up aman of tender, sympathizing heart in prison, 
or on a desert island, and you will kill him. So the religious na- 
ture is configured to a Deity. Were there no God, or were He 
beyond the reach of our intelligence, our love, and our prayers, 
then the spiritual constitution of our souls would be the source of 
singular and awful agony. An energy without an object turns 
back upon the soul itself to crush and consume it. 

We are now prepared to consider the happiness of the dead whe 
die in the Lord, as made up of the elements which, as we have 
seen, must enter into all human enjoyment. Let us bear in mind 
that we shall be hereafter real human beings still. Personality 
will survive what we call death. The integrity of our spiritual 
nature will be preserved, though imperfections and infirmities will 
be removed. Perhaps, also, new senses and powers may be developed 
in the coming life, some of which indeed seem to have a rudiment- 
ary development here. But the doctrine in hand will apply just as 
well to the unknown activities of the future life, as to those which 
in their low, immature manifestations are familiar to our earthly 
experience. Whatever new powers may spring up in the progres- 
sive stages of our immortal growth, the exercise of those powers 
will be a source of still greater happiness. Starting then with this 
principle, now we trust firmly established, I remark, 

1. That the heavenly life will go on under perfect physical con- 
ditions. In the present world our highest powers are not only 
limited, but obstructed and deranged by the gross material organ- 
ism with which they are now mysteriously connected. Thought 
and affection are largely dependent in their manifestations on 
the brain and nervous system, and consequently on the stomach, 
heart, and other vital organs. Hence feeble and abortive mental 
operations, and hence morbid passions and emotions. Hven when 
the body is in a healthy, vigorous state, its vital power is limited. 
It is soon exhausted by muscular exertion, and prostrated by, in- 
tense mental effort. The deepest thinkers have complained that 
they were cramped and hindered by bodily infirmity. It is gen- 
erally understood that Sir Isaac Newton, in the stupendous labors 
of his earlier years, overworked his brain so that in later years 
he accomplished little that was noteworthy. In the ‘Thoughts 
of Blaise Pascal” we have only the massive stones and pillars of 
a mighty edifice which he had planned, but which by reason of 
incessant and agonizing disease he was unable to build. Milton 
was blind. In fact all men work under obstruction. Even our 
religious states are greatly modified by the condition of the body. 
Religious gloom and melancholy spring as often from physical 
as from moral causes. Dr. Johnson had a crazy nervous system. 


17 


Cowper died under a cloud. It is humiliating to think that Christ- 
ian peace and joy may be disturbed by indigestion; that prayer 
and religious meditation may be interrupted by toothache, or pain 
in the head; that preaching the Gospel may be arrested by a slight 
derangement of the vocal cords. It is sad to think that Christian 
zeal and enthusiasm must be held in check by a prudent regard 
to health and the power of endurance. We feel that there are 
boundless energies of thought and action within us which cannot 
be exerted in the present world. Wesoon grow weary. And we 
grow old. Life is so short that we cannot safely project enter: 
prises requiring many years for their accomplishment. Hence, 
“the native hue of resolution is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of 
thought.” What we want is a perfect body, in a perfect physical 
environment. 

Now the life above is represented in Scripture as absolutely free 
from physical infirmities. There sickness and decay, old age 
and dissolution are unknown. ‘They shall. hunger no more, 
neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor 
any heat. And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor 
crying; neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things 
are passed away.” 

Having recently preached to you on the “spiritual body,” the 
house which is from heaven, I need not now go over the same 
ground. I proved to you that the saint on being released from 
the mortal body became possessed of a spiritual and immortal 
organism, and was translated into the unseen but most real and 
substantial universe where decay is impossible. I need not say 
to many of you that while the physical philosophy of the times is 
favorable to this doctrine it is plainly the doctrine of revelation. 
“Jt is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption, it is sown in 
dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised 
in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. 
“There is a natural body and there is a spiritual body. Howbeit 
that is not first which is spiritual but that which is natural, and 
afterwards that which is spiritual.” Hear this, ye whose frames 
are bowed with age, whose eyes are dim, whose ears are dull, 
whose limbs are feeble and tottering! Hear it, ye who have become 
familiar with pain and anguish: all these things shall pass away. 
You are approaching the fountain of perpetual youth; you shall 
soon drink the waters of immortality. The very memory of all 
you have suffered shall fade away like a dream of the night. 
And think of those who have gone from us into the unseen. 
They are now strong and beautiful, like the angels of God; or 
rather like their risen Lord. They are clothed ;with bodies inca- 
pable of weariness, exhaustion, pain; with bodies all sense, all life, 
all power. Their perpetual activity is perpetual rest. Such is the 
nature of immortality. Think too of their living in a world of 
corresponding glory and beauty. Think of all that is most lovely 
here, 

3 


A 18 


Imaged there 
li happier beauty, more pellucid streams, 
An ampler ether, a diviner air, 
And fields invested with purpureal gleams; 
Climes which the sun, who sheds the brightest day, 
Earth knows, is all unworthy of survey. 

2. In the life above the intellectual powers will be inconceiv- 
ably enlarged and enter on a career of ever-increasing activity. 
Here we see but dimly; we reason uncertainly; we grope after 
truth and guess at it. What we know is but an islet in the bound- 
less ocean of the unknown. We are now slowly mastering the - 
alphabet of knowledge; the mighty volume of truth, which glori- 
fied saints and angels study, is yet to be opened. Here memory — 
(even that of a Macaulay) is weak, judgment fallible, imagination 
sluggish; all the mental powers torpid, by reason of the gross. 
animal nature which enchains and chills them. How blessed the 
change to a state of perfect mental energy; that is to say, intuitive 
clearness and telescopic range of intellectual vision ; penetration 
into the deep mysteries of God and of nature; perpetual progress, 
swift as light, in the upward path of certain discovery; a progress 
not checked by weariness nor limited by death, but advancing 
evermore through millennium after millennium of an affluent, un- 
waning immortality. There all sciences will run up into the all- 
comprehending science of God; for in that world God will be (as 
He ought to be in this) “Allin all.” When will the day dawn 
_ and the shadows flee away? I sometimes seem to descry, for brief 
moments, through rifts in the murky cloud of human ignorance, 
distant mountain-tops of unknown truths, mountain-tops bright 
and rosy with the beams of the everlasting sun. But the cloud 
quickly closes again, and my heart grows sick with unsatisfied 
longings and the bitterness of hope deferred. Sometimes when I 
read the sayings of Christ, I find single words that are windows 
opening upon vistas stretching away into the dim remoteness of 
infinity and eternity. Rise, O Divine Sun, and scatter the dark- 
ness ! Come the day when Christ Himself will interpret to me His 
own words, each of which is to me now an abyss of glory! Come 
the day when John and Paul will beckon me up to their own high 
landing-place in the stairway of heavenly knowledge! 

3. This suggests that the lfe above will also be one of un- 
shackled spiritual energy. Liagut anp Lovm—these are heaven: 
light without a cloud, love supreme, casting out all selfishness, 
fear, sorrow ; the light of God brooding forever upon a soul vast 
as the ocean, and throbbing through all its depths and along all its 
shores, with a love that knows no ebb, and will be forever swelling 
toward its spring-tide. You have perhaps sometimes: seen the 
rapture of dying saints; you have heard their ecstatic expressions 
of triumphant faith and love and joy: imagine that rapture not 
only prolonged through countless ages, but inconceivably height 
ened : well, that is the joy of heaven, the joy of perfect love, only 
without the inevitable pang of bodily dissolution, 


1 


_ 4, The heavenly life will be blessed in the exercise of the social 

affections. The constitution of society in heaven is not fully re- 
vealed ; but we know that while.earthly relations will not be there 
renewed, it will be composed of a multitude that no man can 
number; that different orders of intelligences will there commingle 
in holy fellowship ; that saints of all ages will there meet in trans- 
port and harmony; that the Bride of the Lamb, the glorified 
Church, is another name for a pure and deathless communion of 
all the pure and good, who shall forever be joined to one another 
and to Christ in the bond of an endless life. There friends who . 
walked together with Christ below shall again ‘clasp inseparable 
hands in joy and bliss in over-measure forever.”’ 

We shall not only meet old friends in heaven, but we shall make 
new friends there. The patriarchs, the prophets, the apostles, the 
martyrs, the saintly men and women of all generations—shall we 
not find among them heart-friends with whom we shall hold sweet 
communion as we walk in company by the river of ‘life? Besides, 
blessed thought, the friendships of that world shall never be 
broken up. 

5. The question may occur to your minds,—“ Is the happiness 
of Heaven confined to intellectual, spiritual, and social activity ? 
Is there no great work to be done in the hereafter? No outward 
and efficient service to be rendered to the kingdom of God? Is 
the blessedness of the glorified to spring solely from meditation, 
love, and social communion? No! no! thought and emotion 
are perfected in action, love culminates in service; joy results from 
benevolent enterprise, the highest joy from self-sacrifice. But what 
service can the saints in glory render? We know from scripture 
that they will adore and praise the triune God, but the conjecture 
is not wild or improbable that the servants of God will find 
other work to do in heaven. How many immature souls, souls 
from heathen lands, souls of the poor and untaught, are added 
every day to the assembly of just men made perfect! Will 
they not need instruction? And then, think of the innumerable 
multitude of little children in glory: will they not need ‘care and 
instruction? They are indeed free from sin, but they are imma. 
ture in knowledge. What if heaven had innumerable sabbath- 
schools in perpetual session? In heaven there is an unbroken 
sabbath. However this may be, we are assured that when Christ 
comes to reign upon the earth His saints will reign with Him. 
They will be active agents and ministers of the great King when 
He goes forth from conquering to conquer. And then we are to 
consider the possibilities implied in the future eternity of the spir- 
itual universe. What vast enterprise may be carried on in coming 
cycles, enterprises, for aught we know, extending to many worlds 
and systems, we can but vaguely conjecture ; but of this we are 
assured, that the blessedness of the saved will be in perpetual 
service, and in that service they will have everlasting REST. 

These remarks may well kindle in our hearts an ardent desire 


20 


to depart and be with Christ. Why should death seem terrible to 
us? It is but a subterranean road to bliss. Our true life but 
dawns in this world : its full glory shines beyond the grave. 

The glorious truths which we have been meditating offer a 
strong consolation in the loss of dear friends. A loss to us, but 
what a gain to them! In our loss we mourn, in their gain we 
rejoice. 

Hear what the voice from Heaven proclaims, 
For all the pious dead, 

Sweet is the savor of their names, 
And soft their sleeping bed. 


They die in Jesus and are blest, 
How kind their slumbers are 
From suffering and from sins released, 
And freed from every snare. 


Far from this world of toil and strife, 
They’re present with the Lord, 
The labors of their mortal life 
End in a large reward. 

During the last two or three years this church has lost a large 
number of its active members. Ten were taken away from us last 
year, among them some of the noblest and best. And the few 
months of the present year have thinned our ranks in about the 
same proportion. Several of those who have gone from us were 
pillars. Wecannot forget them. Their names will continue fresh 
and green in our memory till we are called to follow them to their 
heavenly rest. ; 

Oh! then what raptured greetings 
On Canaan’s happy shore, 
What knitting severed friendships up, 
Where partings are no more. 
Then eyes with joy shall sparkle, 
That brimmed with tears of late, 
Orphans no longer fatherless, 
Nor widows desolate. 

The recent death of Mrs. Hutpana Squirr Henry has filled 
many a heart: with sorrow. You all knew her and loved her as a 
faithful ‘“handmaid of the Lord.” 

The outward events of her life were not especially striking. 
She was born in New Haven, Vermont, in 1811. Brought up in 
the nurture and admonition of the Lord, she gave evidence in 
early youth of the spiritual life, and at the age of fifteen was re- 
ceived into the communion of the church in her native town. 

She was married in 1833, and after a brief residence in Ben- 
nington she removed to Grand Rapids, Mich., in 1836, where she 
joined the Congregational Church at its organization, the day after 
her arrival. In 1867 she came with her family to this city, and 
continued an honored and beloved member of this church till her 
recent translation to the church triumphant. 

Mrs. Henry was a calm, thoughtful, intelligent Christian, strik- 
ingly resembling in character, as well as in person, her excellent 


21 


brother, the late Prof. Miles P. Squire D.D., of Beloit College. 
She was active in works of charity and benevolence. She loved 
the house of God, the social meeting, the communion of saints. 
A good wife, a wise and tender mother, she made her home a 
lesser church ; and there God and His angels dwelt. Her Chris- 
tian experience was ripe and rich. In all my pastoral visits to the 
sick I have never met with one whose faith was more assured and 
riumphant. And never did I converse with a dying saint whose 
words were more cheering and inspiring to me as a minister of the 
gospel. Some of those words indeed can never fade from my 
memory; but they were too sacred, and too evidently intended for 
my own encouragement and consolation, to be repeated in this dis- 
course. Her death was only the rounding-out of a noble life, 
anticipated more or less during a severe illness of five or six 
weeks. The time for her departure came on Monday last at two 
o'clock. The last hour was only the culmination of her faith and 
_ the confirmation of all her previous testimonies. 

She left her blessing personally with all her children and her 
grandchildren who were present, and sent messages of parting and 
of tender love to others, then said, as her breath shortened, ‘Is 
this dying?” Then she repeated with voice of wonderful clear- 
ness a portion of the 23d Psalm, and added, “Lord Jesus, receive 
my spirit.” Farewell, saintly spirit! Rest in Jesus, till His voice 
shall rend the curtains of thy death-sleep ‘with sweet salvation in 
the sound !”’ 


From Rev. A. T. Prerson, D.D., Pastor of the Fort street Presbyterian 
Church, Detrott, a valued friend of the deceased and her family. 


Mrs. Henry was a rare woman. In nothing perhaps more marked than 
in her simplicity of character. There was in her not only that which is 
rare, but that which is radiant, but she shone unconsciously, as the red fire 
shines in a ruby or the colorless light in a diamond. Her beauty was the 
unconscious beauty of a christian womanhood. She sat like Mary at Jesus’ 
feet until her face reflected the glory of his face. The kingdom of God 
came not with observation in her life and work, it was as the silent sun- 
light that pervades and permeates, gilds and glorifies whatever it reaches . 
and touches. She was loved, therefore, only as she was known, and she 
was known only by those who moved in the inner circle of her unobtru- 
sive and domestic life. She sounded no pharisaic trumpet before her, and 
wore no broad phylactery, her piety had no herald nor adorning, save the 
meek and quiet spirit which is in the sight of God of great price. She will 
be missed first and most of all in the sanctuary of her home. It is never- 
theless true she was a woman of large, ltberal, and catholic charity and 
sympathy. She abounded in good works and alms deeds. 

There are many who could show the garments that she made while she 
was with them to clothe poverty and comfort widowhood and orphanage. 
Her ministry of mercy bore light into many a dark hovel, and soothed 
many a deathbed, and when her own feet touched the waters of the deep 
river, the promises that from her lips had transformed the dying hour of 
others into an hour of peace, transfigured her own into an hour of triumph 
and glory. Without any fear or distrust, or even keen physical suffering, — 
she breathed her life out sweetly, quietly, calmly, as a child sinks to rest. 
As she asked,.so God gave to her, to ‘‘ go upon the wings of prayer.” The 
last petition offered for her in a voice choked with emotion, was that she 
might, like Stephen, looking up, behold the heavens opened, and see Jesus 
standing on the right hand of God; that having said ‘‘ Lord Jesus, receive 
my spirit,” she might, like that holy martyr, fall asleep. 

And that petition was scarcely uttered when she passed into the uncon- 
scious state in which, with no struggle, she passed from us into the pres- 
ence of Him whom she adored. Her humility would forbid even these 
simple words of tribute to hermemory. During her life the precious oint- 
ment was closely sealed in its flask, but now that the flask is broken, the 
sweet fragrance refuses to be confined, and it fills the whole house. We 
cannot withhold an affectionate word of recognition where so many win- 
ning traits demand it. It would be sacrilege to invest such a departure 
with the suggestions of despair and disaster. Her monument should bear 
no carved symbols of disappointment. Her day of death was her day of 
birth. 


23 


From Dr. H. D. Kircnen, of Milwaukee, Wis., formerly Pastor of the 
First Congregational Church of Detroit. 


Your letter announcing the death of Mrs. W. G. Henry reached me 
some weeks since, while on a journey, and in circumstances which forbade 
an immediate reply. But lam unwilling to let the event pass without 
some testimonial of the esteem and affection she inspired in me long since 
in our early acquaintance, and which the years have only increased. With 
the grief comes the vivid recollection of those years in which I have en- 
joyed her friendship and proved her worth. I cannot better express in a 
few words my estimate of her character, than by referring to the descrip- 
tion of the ‘‘ Virtuous woman” in the closing chapter of Proverbs—that di- 
vine delineation of blended delicacy, dignity, and efficiency any approach 
to which is so far toward completeness of womanly grace and honor. 

It was eminently hers in virtue of her Puritan blood and early culture to 
be capable of this style of gentle strength and nobleness, and God .gave her 
tuition in a large and various experience that crowned her riper years with 
something of this gracious excellence. No word has reached me of her 
manner of sickness and death, but I know for substance how such a woman 
would die, surprised it may be at the summons, but not dismayed, and 
ready at the second thought, secure in Him whom long since she loved 
and trusted. 

And with all her family and friends I cannot but hope and believe that 
the precious memories of her life have had power to soften greatly the bit- 
terness of their bereavement. 


From Rev. J. MorGan Smiru, who was her Pastor for four years at 
Grand Rapids. 


My remembrance of Mrs, Henry is of a large-natured, generous woman, 
who put her whole soul into her whole life. In the fall of 1863, my wife 
and myself were invited to the hospitality of her house, and ever after that 
she gave us the same liberal place in it which she at first assigned to us. 
For her children and for her home, for her church and her friends, she had 
a warm interest of a wife, a mother, a lady, anda Christian. In many con- 
versations I recall her as talking on all subjects with ability and candor. 
She always interested me much in what she said by the reality and force of 
her views. Iam sorry to think sheis here no more. On the evening when 
her departure was mentioned in our church meeting, there was a general 
expression of sorrow from all who had known her. It would. have been 
gratifying to her kindred could they have listened, unobserved, to the ex- 
pressions of attachment and admiration which were made. 

Her friends all felt that she had filled every part of her life full with 
good deeds. They thought her a very uncommon woman, and the church 
will always owe her a debt for her great influence in building it up in its 
earlier days. I rejoice to have been her friend and minister, and I love 
her memory. 


24 


GRAND Raprps, Micu., May 38, 1880. 
Mr. WiiiiAmM G. HENRY: 


My Very Dear Sir,—I am much pained by the telegram received this. 


evening of the death of your wife. Very many here will grieve and will 
sympathize with you and your children in this hour of your great bereave- 


ment. Mrs. Henry was a friend in need to many here in times gone by, ~ 


and though along time absent from this place, for so many years your 
home, yet you have both been remembered with interest and high esteem by 
many who still remain. I beg you will receive this hasty word of condo- 
lence from your friend, and pardon my lack of words. May the Lord be 
very merciful to you and your remaining ones at this time. 
Very sincerely yours, 
Harvey J. HOLLISTER. 


DETROIT. 
W. G. Henry, Esq.: 


Dear Friend,—As the death of Mrs. W. G. Henry, whose funeral rites it 
was my sad privilege so recently to attend in this city was a source of 
great grief to her immediate family, so it was the occasion of much sorrow 
to her many friends, who now mourn her loss as one peculiary near. Our 
affectionate remembrance of our dear friend prompts this slight tribute to 
her memory, given to her children to whom she was so long spared, and 
for whom she left so bright and shining an example. 

Mrs. Bridge and I first met Mr. and Mrs. Henry at Grand Rapids, in the 
fall of 1836, a short time previous to our marriage, some little time before 
which event an intimacy had sprung up between the two ladies, which 
from that day only continued to grow in warmth and strength. 

Mrs. Henry was present at our wedding, on which occasion she displayed 
a loving and sisterly interest, and in the after years of their acquaintance 
sisters could not have been more devotedly attached than they were even 
up to hour of Mrs. Henry’s death. 

In the year of 1840, Mrs. Bridge and 1 removed to this city, and fora 
time the intimacy which had been so close was somewhat interrupted 
until after the removal of Mrs. Henry also to Detroit, when our former 
affectionate relations were resumed, not again to be disturbed until severed 
by death. Eminent from her early youth for her piety, which was always 
conspicuous in her daily life, Mrs. Henry attached to herself all whose 
privilege it was to know her. Her gentle manner, her interest in the spirit- 
ual welfare of those whom she loved, and her unselfish consideration for 
the happiness of those about her, seldom failed to meet with a loving 
response from those toward whom such affectionate interest was extended. 
Few persons leave behind a nobler record than Mrs. Henry, and as the 
deeds of such a life are recorded in Heaven it is the privilege of her 
children and friends while they mourn their loss to know that her life on 
earth was a glorious preparation for the life to come. 

With sincere sympathy for you in your bereavement, I am yours very 
truly. 

H. P. Briper., 


a 


25 


From Hon. 8. L. Wiruny of Grand Rapids. 


My Dear Sir,—I would gladly render some slight tribute of respect to 
the life and memory of Mrs. Henry, could I find fitting words. My first 
impressions of Mrs. Henry were lasting. I met her in 1838, and, as the 
years passed, her good works and pure life rounded and filled out in her 
the character of a noble Christian woman. For many years hers was the 
life of a pioneer—for Grand Rapids was a frontier hamlet, and Mrs. 
Henry during that time bore her full share of the labor of putting in 
motion and sustaining influences to counteract the ails of anew community. 
During the early settlement of Grand Rapids, and up to some thirteen years 
ago, when the family removed to Detroit, Mrs. Henry was not only promi-. 
nent in the social circles of the city, but was among the foremost to 
encourage, build, and maintain there, whatever was helpful and best. 
Prudent, observant, well-balanced, and judicious, she did not work at 
random, but always wisely. Amiable and kind to all, considerate, and 
firm, a heart overflowing with charity and an abiding faith in Christ 
were elements of character that she possessed and employed for good. 
Truly can it be said that in all movements to advance right-living and 
right-doing Mrs. Henry’s sympathy and codperation could be counted 
upon. -Her unobtrusive ways, kind words, amiability, womanly sympathy, 
and earnest Christian example, live in many good results. 


Detroit, May 5, 1880. 


OUR DESIRE AT THE GRAVE OF MRS. HENRY. 


Fold her, O Father, in thine arms, 
And let her henceforth be 

A messenger of love between 
Our human hearts and Thee. 


Mr. and Mrs. F.. LAMBIE. 





From Dea. WiLLIAM HALDAM, who, with his wife, have known Mrs. Henry 
from the organization of the church in Grand Rapids. 


We became acquainted with Mrs. Henry at the time this church was 
first organized in 1836, and have been so up to the time of her removal to 
Detroit. She was one of the pioneers of the church at that time, and one 
of the first and most active in all good Christian work, and may safely be 
said to have done as much for the prosperity of this church as any other 
one individual; although this church was never deficient in members of 
talent and enterprise, yet we may safely give to her the preference as a 
leading spirit and an influential member. In the establishment of the 
Union Benevolent Association, then called the Orphans’ Asylum, she 
was one of the leaders, and devoted time and labor the most abundant of 
any one; and always a leader naturally without show or ostentation; 
unsectarian and always ready for every good work, with a peculiar 
faculty to gain the admiration and good-will of all classes of good people. 


3 


26 


Curcaco, May 12, 1880. 

My pEAR Mr. HENRy: 

Your paper gives us the first and the sad news of the death of dear Mrs. 
Henry. We mourn for heras for one of our own circle. She early endeared 
herself to us, and the affectionate regard has been ever the same for thirty 
years and more. Jenny was so grieved and yet so happy to think of her 
charming visit a year ago, and we are so glad that Belle could know her 
too, before the precious tie was broken. We commend you and your 
stricken household to the tender care of Him who we know will sustain 
you, and comfort you in this most trying hour. 

With sincere regards, 
Yours, J. H. HOLLISTER. 


KALAMAZOO, May 15, 1880. 

Wo. G. Henry, Esq. : 

My dear friend—I received a Detroit Post and Tribune from you, con- 
taining resolutions of the Industrial School Trustees of Detroit on the 
death of your dear wife. Wehad already heard of her death, which caused 
us deep-felt sorrow at your loss and that of your family in being called to 
mourn her death, which to us seems almost untimely. Our acquaintance 
formed with her while here served only to make us love and esteem her 
for her many good traits of character. What sympathy friends can im- 
part in such sad afflictions you certainly have from us. My wife joins me 
in kind regards to you and your daughter. 

Truly yours, 
ALT. PROUre 


_ 


2 


Written to Mrs. Aurelia Henry, a sister of the deceased, by her husband. 


GENEVA, N. Y. 

Your letter was received this afternoon, and we are glad to learn of 
your favorable journey and safe arrival. We supposed you would meet 
sobs and tears. The loss of a mother and such a mother and wife will 
swell the bosom, choke the utterance, and almost extinguish the life that 
isin us. But she is not lost, she still lives, and it is a happy thought that 
the dear one may be hovering near, administering to the wants and com- 
fort of her bereaved ones. Cousin Albert’s letter to you was received this 
morning. The willingness of our dear sister, her entire resignation to 
leave family and friends and the pleasant surroundings of her life, and go 
alone over the river is more than we-can well comprehend. It is evident 
that God’s grace sustained her and that the blessed Saviour was there. 
We send our sympathy to brother William and all the mourning ones. We 
-recommend them to Him who alone can restore the broken heart; can 
give joy to the sorrowing ones, strength to the weak, a home to His chil- 
dren, and a heaven to the obedient and faithful. 


bal 


ry; 


From the same as above written to Mr. Henry. 


. .. . How your heart will yearn for the dear one gone before; she 
seems so inseparable in my thoughts of you, yet what unspeakable comfort 
that her faith wavered not; that her mind was so clear that she could 
take each one, and with appropriate advice commend them to her Saviour 
feeling that you would meet her in the blissful realms above, where we 
shall all soon gather. 


New Haven, Vt., May 8, 1880. 

My DEAR UNCLE: 

The telegraph has just brought us the sad intelligence of the event which 
has desolated your home and stricken all our hearts.. We can scarcely 
realize that the strong, vigorous friend with whom we recently parted 
after so many pleasant hours together has indeed gone forever. But such 
is the end for us all. She has only a little preceded us and we must soon 
follow her. May our names call up as many sweet and precious memories, 
as that of the kind, devoted wife, the faithful and sympathetic mother, 
the true and lovely friend with whom we now so tearfully and reluctantly 
part for a little season, hoping to meet her beyond the veil. 


Yours affectionately, 
E. 8. Dana. 


From Mrs. Espen Situ of Grand Rapids to Mrs. Alger. 

I have thought of you so much of late in your deep affliction. 
. . . I have such pleasant memories of your dear mother, remembering 
when we were girls of her interest in us, and always assisting us in our 
plans, and interested in everything pertaining to our girlish fancies. 





From Mrs. Hon. Wo. M. FERRY, to Mrs. Alger. 
GRAND HAVEN, Micu. 

I cannot tell you with what surprise and sorrow I read the sad 
words telling your bereavement; not yours alone, but the loss we all bear 
in the death of your beautiful mother. It seemed like snapping cords 
asunder of love and old ties made more dear by time. In these later 
years we have less often come together, but our friendship with your 
mother and her family was that which time and distance does not change. 
Like the parting of yesterday is the last, and now I could not have felt 
it more had we been together. Mother, Aunt Mary, our girls, all join in 
the sorrow, and so will the dear father when the words come to him, for 
it was at your mother’s we first met. It seems to stir many memories, 
and to their foundations, this going out of one we have so long loved. 
. . . [remember your united happy household not only, but the many 
hospitalities of the home. No one family contributed to the social enjoy- 
ment of the city at that time more than did your own, nor sought more 
untiringly the welfare and prosperity of the church. The work was 
done because she loved to do it, and it became a part of herself. She 
helped to lay foundations, and her work will appear, now and hereafter. 


28 © 


From Mrs. J. B. Wiuson, of Grand Rapids, to Mrs, Alger. 


I cannot tell you how shocked I was to hear of your dear mother’s 
death. I had thought that hers would be a longer life, for she always 
seemed so well and strong. To me she seemed the very one to live on to 
a sunny old age of ten or fifteen more years. I feel that I have lost a 
near and dear friend. As I look back and recall her cheerful, kindly 
greetings, I feel that I shall never have such experiences again. I loved 
her dearly. She seemed to me like a mother, and as I have grown older 
like an older sister. 





From Miss PowkEuu, a cousin, to Mrs. Frank Russell. 
My DEAR AURA: ; 

I know how well you loved your mother, and how your heart is torn 
with anguish at the thought that you shall see her face no more, She 
was worthy of the love and respect, and almost worship, of her children. 
I can realize with what joy you greeted her when she came to visit you 
at your home; how you counted the weeks and days when you were 
expecting her, before you should imprint upon her face the kiss of wel- 
_ come; and now when you remember that her countenance has been 
changed, that you almost refuse to be comforted. But He doeth all things 
well. You, my dear, had long enjoyed the blessing of a mother’s love. 
She had fulfilled her mission, as a mother. Her children were no longer 
“so dependent upon her, and God took her unto Himself. O! how thank- 
ful you must be that you do not mourn without hope. ‘‘He giveth His 
beloved sleep.” Who can conceive of anything more consoling than 
this passage. And however much we may deplore the loss of our loved 
ones, the thought that they are the beloved of the Lord fills the soul 
with gratitude towards that beneficent Being who, when he wounds, 
knows how to heal, by bringing to remembrance those: precious truths of 
His holy word that are so full of comfort. You, my dear Mrs. Russell, 
are not a stranger to that word, nor to the throne of grace, and fully 
realize that it is here you must look in this your time of trial for that 
peace the world cannot give. May God, even the Father, bless you and 
Mr. Russell, who shares your sorrow abundantly, and enable you to say 
from the depth of your soul, ‘‘ Even so, Father, Thy will be done.” 





From dear friends in Mansfield, to Mrs. Russell. 


We have been often with you as a family, in sympathy and prayer, 
during the past weeks of your sorrow and trial, feeling that we especially, 
by a similar experience, could understand how deep are the shadows of 
the dark valley in which you now sit waiting in silent, agonizing suspense. 
Our dear Mr. Russell announced from the pulpit this A. mM. that physi- 
cians can give you but little ground for hope and keep you ever warned 
of the possibility of the truth. How well I know what a sorrow-doom 
that brings to your spirit, my dear Mrs. Russell, and to think of your 
dear sisters and family, and how precious to you 4ll in the life now trem- 
bling in the balance. O well I know how the cords that bind you to 
her are strung to their utmost tension at thought of the possible parting. 


29 


Hrom another friend. 


A warm welcome home to our dear sister. How gladly would we help 
to bear this great sorrow which a kind Heavenly Father has laid upon 
you. It is hard to say ‘“‘ Thy will be done,” but it is sweet to trust in that 
love that does not willingly afflict. | 

Be assured of our warm sympathy, love, and prayers. 





We could not let this day pass without assuring you how deeply we feel 
your loss. Words are weak and worthless things when we try to express 
our emotions and sympathy. We know that no one outside the family 
circle can fully enter into your grief, but our hearts are sad, and will not 
be comforted for we loved the dear mother too. How sweet in afflictions 
to rest in the promises, and make them ours. We know chastisement is 
an assured token of love and sonship. ‘‘ It is the Lord thy God that chas- 
tened thee.” ‘‘ He smites but to heal.” 


EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS TO HER DAUGHTER, MISS FAY 
HENRY. 
From a Dear Cousin in Bennington, Vt. 

My Dear Fay,—It was with deep sorrow that we read your letter, re- 
ceived last Saturday afternoon. In yours of a few weeks since you speak 
as though you hoped auntie had changed for the better, and though anxious 
to hear again, yet it had not been with that element of anxiety as though 
you had spoken the word danger in connection with her. We are await- 
ing now further word with what patience we may. We hope for better 
tidings; better for us I mean, and yet the fact of her having been so uni- 
formly free from sickness makes us more fear the violence of this. ‘‘ Dear 
Auntie,” we all say, ‘‘ What would they all do without her.” She has 
been such a counselor and companion to each of you. I have indeed left 
you constantly in this your great sorrow, to Him who hears and answers 
prayer. He has said that the prayer of faith shall prevail, and I have full 
confidence in His promise. If it can be best then He will restore our sick 
to health and us. How gladly now we think of our pleasant visit last fall, 
and how many pleasant memories she left then. Mrs. Hall and Mrs. 
Breckenridge manifest much sympathy for you. Iam so glad you know 
so well where to go. Our hearts sympathize most tenderly and prayerfully 
with you all, and with dear auntie in this her trying discipline. We shall 
await further word with longing hopefulness. God grant its answer. 

Liver yours, 
Mary Hower Henry. 





From the same. - 
My Very DEAR Cousin,— 

- Heaven will seem, O! how much nearer than ever before. Like echoes of 
half-forgotten strains you will seem at times to catch the tones from over 
the jasper walls, for have you not one of your life-loved voices mingling 
with those there. 


30 


Dear stricken hearts be comforted! All peace is hers. I cannot imag- 
ine dear auntie as really gone out of sight, she is so entirely a part of my 
western life. My heart aches for uncle. 

We have so much to be thankful for in that most pleasant visit of last 
fall. I can see her face so plainly in. many different moments of that visit, 
and each of them replete with vivacity and kindly interest for others. I 
never saw her more thoroughly enjoyable. Dear Fay, know all that your 
mother was to her girls, the confidante and mentor in a rare measure, and 
retaining to the last her youthful feelings, and thorough understanding of 
yours. I feel that I too have lost a kind friend, and one who would have 
been so always. May God comfort you all. 

Yours, in sympathy, 
Mary Howe HEnry. 


From Mrs. MinniE MitrcHei Brooks, Cincinnati. 


I loved your dear mother very much, Fay, and when I learned she was 
ill, I wished so much that I could see her, then there would come back to 
me the happy day, spent with her at your home, and the delightful talks we 
had together, and I wished that my life could be as lovely, and I as true a 
follower of the Master as the dear one that has gone. I mourn with you 
to-day, but pray that God’s blessing may be upon you, and that He may be 
very near you in this hour of trial. 


CINCINNATI, 
DEAR Fay ,— 


I loved your mother dearly. Words of comfort and promise seem al- 
most a mockery at such atime when the heart is breaking with grief. 
But after a time you will be able to see the silver lining of the cloud. The 
dear mother ! God will not forsake her children. 

Much love, 
NELLE MITCHELL. 


Lines from Miss Mary E. Runyan, a Mansfield Friend. 
DEAR NAINA: 
Heaven will now to you be nearer, 
For you have a mother there, 
Who will love you all the dearer, 
Guard you with a greater care. 


O wondrous isa mother’s love, 
Still ’tis a dim reflection 

Of the love of our God above, 
Who in love sends the affliction. 


While your bitter tears are falling, 
And your heart with grief is torn, 
Listen to the Savior calling, 
** Rest in me, and cease to mourn.”’ 


31 


She is not dead, but liveth on, 
A nobler spirit glorified, 

Her longings are forever gone, 
She is entirely satisfied. 


God will make your affliction sweet 
To you, and sanctifying; 

"Tis thus He makes your life complete, 
And to him glorifying. 

More than husband, father, brother, 
Christ to you doth bear a part; 

He is more to you than mother, 
Lean upon His throbbing heart. 





To her Granddaughter, Miss Naina Henry. 


GRAND RAPIDs. 
DEAR NAINA: 


I was so grieved for you yesterday when I saw in the paper that your 
grandmother had gone from you, that I want to write immediately and 
tell you how very sorry I am for you. I remember how kind she 
used to be to us when we were children, and I well know what a truly 
good and noble woman she was. You, who have been with her always 
as a daughter, will miss her sadly I know. May our kind Heavenly 
Father, to whom your dear grandmother has gone, help and comfort you in 
your great trouble. 





To Miss Carrie and Fay Alger, from their teacher in the Detroit Seminary. 
My DEAR FRIENDS: 

I sympathize with you in your deep afiliction. The thought that you 
are suffering has cast a gloom over us all to-day. May God bless you 
both, and may you become as useful, respected, and beloved when you reach 
womanhood as your dear grandmother, whose loss you mourn. 





From the Grand Rapids Hagle. 
OxpiTuaRY—Mrs. W. G. HENRy. 

Mrs. W. G. Henry, whose death was yesterday announced in these col-. 
umns, was born in New Haven, Vermont, July 22, 1811. Coming to this 
city in 1836, she spent here nearly or quite one-half of her life, and all our 
older citizens knew her well. For a few years past the family has resided 
in Detroit, where she died on May 3d, after a painful illness of several 
weeks. Gifted with the charms of a sweet and gracious womanhood, at- 
tractive in person, of a strong and healthy organization, wherever she lived 
she was the center of a circle of loving and devoted friends. To the husband 
of her youth, who survives her, to her sons and daughters, her death is an 
irreparable loss, and scarcely less to her loving friends. In all the rela- 
tions of life she has lived among us a devoted, earnest, Christian woman, 
faithful to every trust, cheerful under all trials, ready for every good work. 
To the bereaved home circle we accord our warmest sympathy. With her 


32 


many friends we mourn her departure. We weep that we shall see her 
face no more on earth, yet, to her, we firmly believe, the bed of death was 
the gate of heaven. M. 





At a meeting of the Trustees of the Industrial School Association, held 
at their rooms, Wednesday, May 5, 1880, the following resolutions were 
adopted : . 


WHEREAS, It has pleased God in His Providence to call from her earthly - 
labors a member of this board, Mrs. W. G. Henry; } 
Resolwed, That, while we bow in submission to this Providence, we feel 

that we have sustained a loss that will not easily be met, and though we 

know our earthly loss is her gain, yet we will miss her ever-ready word of 
counsel; her faithful performance of every duty assumed, and her untir- 
ing watchfulness of the interests of this school. 

Resolved, That as President of this Association for three years she faith- 
fully and constantly gave her time and thought to the interests under her 
charge, devoting herself to the welfare of this school with a whole-hearted 
consecration that we as her fellow-laborers will long bear in grateful re- 
membrance, striving to emulate her example. 

Resolved, 'That we extend our sympathy to her bereaved family, and pray 
that their mother’s God may sustain them in this time of trial. 

Resolved, That this school be closed for the day in respect to her 
memory. . 

Resolved, 'That a copy of these resolutions be sent to the bereaved family, 
to the daily papers, and recorded in the books of this institution. 

Mrs. C. Van Husen, President. 

Mrs. A. J. Brow, Cor. Secretary. 





From the Daily Morning Democrat. 
RESOLUTIONS OF RESPECT. 


GRAND Rapips, June 11, 1880. 
At a meeting of the Union Benevolent Association, held in Grand 
Rapids, June 8, 1880, the following resolutions were adopted and entered 
on the records of the society : 


WueEREAS, It has pleased our Heavenly Father to remove by death our 
friend and former fellow-worker, and one of the original founders of 
this society, Mrs. W. G. Henry, late of Detroit ; therefore, 

Resolved, That in the death of Mrs. Henry the werld has lost an effi- 
cient, earnest worker, in all Christian enterprise that has for its object the 
uplifting of fallen humanity ; also, the poor have lost a sympathizing 
friend and judicious benefactor. 

Resolved, That we deeply sympathize with the afflicted family in their 
great bereavement. 

Resolved, That these resolutions be published in the city papers, and a 
copy be sent to the family. 














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